


Nightly Routine

by mystery_deer



Series: Habits [2]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Married Life, No angst no plot just vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:01:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29297811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystery_deer/pseuds/mystery_deer
Summary: The nightly habits of Kevin Cozner and Raymond Holt
Relationships: Kevin Cozner/Ray Holt
Series: Habits [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151741
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	Nightly Routine

After dinner, they could find where the other was by the lights. A rich orange under the door to Kevin’s study, a bright yellow reaching down the hall from the kitchen, a pale blue from the bathroom. Raymond was diligent about turning lights off if he wasn’t in a room, Kevin was more forgetful. Raymond found it endearing sometimes and if it was an exam week he’d take the initiative to turn them off himself.

Raymond liked to watch television before bed, though he would never admit it. He didn’t even fully watch sometimes, letting it run while he sat on the couch playing chess against himself or his husband if he was up for a game. Kevin didn’t like the sound of the television, found the loud voices and sound effects and crowd applause distracting, but every once in a while if Raymond looked particularly tired he would hold his tongue and keep the television on.

Kevin preferred listening to the radio and reading and he sometimes did so while Raymond sat on the couch, immersed in a one-person activity. They sat on opposite ends of the couch, Kevin’s position changing on the hour, marked by a grandfather clock in the hall. It had taken weeks to assemble. They’d found the shell at a family-owned thrift store but the internal parts hadn’t worked. Kevin and Martin had fiddled with it for days to the point where Raymond thought about suggesting a professional come look at it, and was about it actually voice this out loud, when the blissful chime rang through the house. 

Raymond sometimes took a break from his one-person activity to kiss Kevin’s idle hand or tug his husband’s legs into his lap. Kevin hardly looked up from his books some days, on others he smirked and resolutely kept his eyes glued to the pages, wanting to be wooed. 

After dinner one of them washed the dishes while the other packed leftovers. Then one of them lit a candle while the other went upstairs to turn on the heat in their bedroom so the sheets wouldn’t be cold. If it was summer they turned on the air conditioning. Sometimes chores that had been neglected earlier would need to be done - give cheddar a bath (best done after dinner and before showering), answering work emails (tedious), calling people (tedious), making a grocery list for the weekend (best done after eating). Sometimes there was nothing to do but luxuriate in one another’s company, though that was in some ways inevitable.

Kevin was stubborn about refusing to sleep if he was in the middle of a task. The first step was denying he was tired, the second was denying he was _that_ tired, the third was insisting he was almost done and the fourth was being asleep. Raymond had entered his study many-a-time to find him nestled in his own arms, asleep on top of an open book or a stack of papers marked in red and black. He’d feel Kevin begin to nod off beside him on the couch, mumbling that he was awake - he was awake - and then nothing. It was rare for his husband to be so childish and though it sometimes led to mild squabbles (“If you are tired why would you not just go to bed? It is unreasonable.”) Raymond often found it made him feel warm. 

Sometimes they drank, though not every night. A glass of wine and a glass of water could be served with dinner, the bottle brought out for an hour or two after eating. Raymond joked that Kevin drank more even though Raymond’s job was more stressful. Kevin didn’t joke but he chuckled every time. When Kevin got drunk he became looser, unfurled his limbs and let himself be gangly. He’d sit with his body pressed against his husband’s, gesturing with a hand and droning on about Prometheus Bound and Giovanni’s Room. He’d turn his head and slur; “Do you understand?” And Raymond would know he wasn’t talking about the material - which was obviously well understood - but something more personal. _Are we on the same page? Do you understand me?_  
Sometimes Raymond would joke “It’s all Greek to me.” And Kevin would laugh. Sometimes Raymond would nod, looking into his husband's eyes and say “I do.” 

They both knew when it was time for bed. It wasn’t a time they’d set but it was agreed upon. After a certain point the both of them staying up without working or entertaining felt juvenile. Who went upstairs first depended on their schedule - sometimes Raymond paced in the dining room thinking a case over or drafted charts for meetings. Sometimes Kevin stayed in his study with the door firmly shut, working on his next chapter or researching a footnote. Even when one stayed up they both went through the motions of bedtime together. 

Kevin brushed his teeth while Raymond examined himself in the mirror, wondering whether or not to shave it again that week or the next. If he took too long Kevin would offer to shave it himself if going to the barber wouldn’t work with his schedule. 

Kevin shaved his face at night if he knew he’d be busy in the morning. Raymond shaved it every morning so he looked put-together for work. 

“You could avoid being busy in the morning if you scheduled out your time more rigorously.” Raymond often said when he was in a particularly cheerful mood.

“I could.” Kevin agreed when he bothered to respond. 

Whoever was out of the bathroom first gently instructed Cheddar to leave with a pleasant ‘good night’ and folded back the blankets to climb in. Whoever was left in the bathroom might be called upon to grab things from it - Advil, Dayquil, a wedding ring taken off to preserve its shine (“I did not buy a cheap ring, dear. Its shine will be forever preserved as a metaphor and matter of fact.”) or a vitamin supplement that had been forgotten earlier that day. 

Raymond liked to read books in bed. Kevin liked to read the paper.   
_“Are you a geriatric?”_ Raymond had asked sometimes, when they were young enough that the insult was playful and wouldn’t cause the both of them to fall into silent despair. 

_“I am well informed.” Kevin had said, ignoring his then-boyfriend because Raymond wanted his attention._

_“My father used to read the newspaper in bed. My grandfather too.” Raymond continued._

_“That’s concerning given the fact that you’re coming on to me.”_

_“Perhaps it's the glasses. They accentuate your hawkish features.”_

_“Would you like a pair?”_

_“I will never wear glasses. My eyesight will remain a perfect 20/20 until the day I die.”_

Raymond had long since forgotten the teasing but his husband still smiled whenever Raymond took out his reading glasses at night.

After reading they talked. About whatever came to mind.  
Sometimes what came to mind had nothing to do with talking.  
They turned off the lights regardless, to encourage a restful atmosphere.

“I love you.”  
“I love you, as well.”

Raymond slept facing the ceiling, hands folded on his chest and blanket tucked under his armpits. Sometimes Kevin would wake up and find that Raymond was sleeping in the same position but had sidled up next to him, head resting against Kevin’s cheek. Though he knew his husband was most likely just seeking the warmth of his body, it was Kevin’s favorite sleeping position.

Kevin cycled through a myriad of acceptable positions throughout the night. Sometimes Raymond would wake up and find that some part of Kevin was touching some part of him (it was never all of him, just pieces. An arm, a leg, even just the tips of his fingers brushing against Raymond’s cheek.) and despite the fact that he knew his husband’s body had done this unconsciously, it was Raymond’s favorite sleeping position.

Neither dreamed, as was preferable.  
And on good days they woke up to find the other still there.


End file.
